He felt numb for a moment, so reminded of his wife. "Our daughter," he said softly as he entered the room.
Andie was on the phone again. When Isaac Underwood had told her she would be working with Victoria Santos, she didn't realize how much of the work would be by long-distance phone calls. Victoria was stretched thin. Seattle's bookend killer was just one of several hot cases. She'd spent most of the week in San Francisco trying to profile a serial rapist who was targeting high school girls. She was also trying to peg an arsonist in Sacramento and a kidnapper in Spokane. Of necessity, profilers were skilled jugglers who somehow managed to keep a ridiculous number of files in the air. At any given time it was estimated that upward of fifty true serial killers were actively plying their trade across the United States. Although the ISU staff had grown since the early years when it was called the Behavioral Science Unit, criminals still far outnumbered criminal profilers. Some things never changed.
It was late afternoon, and much had broken in the case since Andie had talked to Victoria yesterday. On the desk before her was a handwritten outline of specific points she needed to cover, just to make sure she didn't leave anything out. The complete files were handy, right beside her desk, in case Victoria fired any obscure questions. Since this morning the files had expanded by a good ten inches to include victim number four. The expedited autopsy was complete, the police reports were filed. Colleen Easterbrook had been positively identified by a friend who normally car-pooled to work with her. Police now knew more about the fourth victim than the third; Jane Doe was still a Jane Doe.
From her office in the Federal Building, Andie was finally able to track down Victoria at her hotel room in San Francisco. It was clear she was pressed for time. Andie tried to be as efficient as possible with her update. She was able to work smoothly through three of the eight items on her outline before Victoria took over with questions.
"Go to the autopsy," said Victoria. "Did Easterbrook have a ruptured eardrum?"
"Yes. Both of them this time. Jane Doe was just the right."
"What do you think caused it?"
Andie felt challenged. It sounded like a test, as if Victoria had already figured out the answer. "I doubt it's from listening to a loud stereo. Maybe some kind of blunt trauma to the head?"
"Don't talk like you're asking questions, Andie." "Excuse me?"
"You raised your voice at the end of the sentence, as if you were asking a question. You have a habit of doing that. I noticed it in our task force meeting. Talk with more self-assurance. Your instincts are good. What kind of blunt trauma?"
Andie glanced nervously at her outline in front of her. This wasn't part of her prepared speech.
"Come on, Andie. You're right there with the killer. He sees Colleen. He's going to strangle her. What does he need?"
"Control. Control the victim."
"How does he get it?"
"A weapon?"
"No. His weapon is the rope. He needs control before he can use his weapon of choice."
"He surprises her. Sneak attack."
"And then she gouges his eyes out, leaves traces of his flesh under her fingernails for our DNA analysts. No good. Get back to the blunt trauma. The broken eardrums."
Andie blinked, searching her mind for whatever image she could conjure. "He stuns her."
"How?"
"Both hands. Has to be both hands. Both eardrums were broken. He slaps her on the ears,-both hands simultaneously. Like those martial arts experts."
"Is he in front or behind?"
"I--I don't know."
"Go back to Jane Doe. The left eardrum busted. Only the left. Now what do you see?"
Andie squirmed, thinking. "He's standing right in front of her."
"How do you know?"
"I don't. Not for sure. If he's right-handed, he's stronger in his right hand, it lands with more force. Face to face, his right hand goes to Jane Doe's left ear, the one that ruptured. If he's standing behind her, his left hand goes to her left ear."
"Which means?"
"We have a right-handed killer who attacks from the front, or a left-handed killer who attacks from the rear."
Victoria was silent. Andie waited nervously for a response--like a pupil waiting on her grade.
"Well done, Andie. I had to talk to a martial-arts expert before I figured all that out."
"You led me exactly where I needed to go."
"Just take the compliment and shut up. There's very little stroking in this business."
"Okay," she said with a thin smile. "Thanks. Does that mean the quiz is over?"
"It's never over. What does this tell you about the men? No ruptured eardrums in either case."
Andie visualized it. "He must have overtaken them in some other manner. Possibly held them at gunpoint, then handcuffed them, then strangled them. Maybe that proved too easy. The next time around, he needs more thrills, more of a challenge. So he uses the martial-arts stuff on the women."